


In Three Years' Time

by shotgunsinlace



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotgunsinlace/pseuds/shotgunsinlace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren has something to say, but Rivaille can't let himself hear it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Three Years' Time

**Author's Note:**

> Could probably be read as a sequel to [Promises We Can't Keep](http://archiveofourown.org/works/959588), but it can also be read as a standalone.

“Hey, Corporal?”

“Hm?”

“How come you aren’t limping even though you have a busted foot?”

Rivaille finally looks up from the log books spread out over his desk, focusing on an Eren that’s currently grating on his nerves. The damn brat hasn’t shut up since Erwin busted him into Rivaille’s office, claiming that the kid needed to have an eye kept on him at all times. Apparently everyone one else is busy trying to restrain Hanji from going postal over one thing or another.

Rivaille’s done a ton of shady crap throughout his lifetime, but babysitting is new on the list. Understandably, that’s one skill he doesn’t plan on adding to his resume anytime soon. Eren’s worse than any toddler Rivaille has had the displeasure of meeting.

“Do you wanna shut up?”

“Sorry,” Eren mumbles, getting up from the couch and moving to the bookcase lining one of the office walls. That seems to distract him, if only by a damned five seconds. “No but, really. Mikasa told me how you kept on going even after you screwed up your ankle. That’s kind of awesome.”

The damn kid is smiling at him, all bright eyes and carefree attitude. Rivaille figures he’s at ease because his friends are safe for the time being. The nightmare of seeing his comrades die in battle still haunts them both, but Eren seems to be holding up pretty well.

The only acknowledgement Rivaille offers in a harrumph.

He needs to finish up this report as soon as possible, or else risk being left short of equipment the next time a mission comes around. Budget cuts have decimated the amount of gear and gas per cadet, and so a detailed biweekly report of damaged equipment is needed.

“I still have your cloak in my bedroom, sir.” 

At this, Rivaille puts down his pen. “What?”

“I thought it was Mikasa’s. That’s why I didn’t give it back. But, uh… I found that out about two days ago.” Eren is facing the bookshelf, arms wrapped around himself. “I can go get it.”

In all honesty, Rivaille had completely forgotten about that. It’s been a month since their return from the forest and he hasn’t done much lingering on those memories. He’s been focusing on the tasks ahead, on grabbing the female titan and looking for a way to not let the Military Police get their hands on Eren. Something like a cloak seems so trivial.

“Keep it,” Rivaille says, because looking through the log, new uniforms are out of the question. “Yours was lost when we rescued you.”

Eren turns around so fast he nearly stumbles over his own feet. “R-Really?! I mean, but, what about you, sir?”

Sometimes, the kid is terrible at keeping things under wraps. He briefly thinks that faults like that can lead to one’s imminent demise. “I doubt we’ll be making another expedition outside the walls within the next two weeks. I won’t need one until then.” Using his pen as a bookmark, Rivaille shuts the book and leans back in his chair. “Don’t look so excited.”

“It’s just that… it’s a real honor.”

Rivaille could choke on the level of bullshit.

He’s been on the receiving end of countless crushes and hero-worship situations, which makes this situation hardly anything new. Sometimes he does marvel at how anyone can even bat an eyelash in his direction, him being far from the ideal guy. Being humanity’s best soldier has its downsides, emotional detachment being one of the major ones. He’s learned that if you ignore suitors long enough, they’ll eventually lose interest and wander in the direction of other more suitable soldiers—namely ones that don’t carry bloody murder in their eyes on a day to day basis.

But Rivaille has to admit that he’s mildly surprised that Eren, of people, would fluster. For heaven’s sake, the kid twitches whenever Rivaille barks out his name attached to an order. Eren might insist that he doesn’t resent Rivaille for that time in the courtroom, but that fear is still there. It’s safe to assume that Eren’s feelings are just misguided. The kid’s probably just grateful for getting his ass saved for the second time in a row.

“Jaeger,” Rivaille starts, but pauses, debating on what to say. He wonders if anyone has ever given any of the new recruits the talk. Not that he plans on ever giving it. All he needs to do is set boundaries from this point on, but before he can continue, Eren interrupts him.

“Please don’t,” he says, and sags in on himself. “I know what you’re gonna say.”

Rivaille doesn’t mutter a word. He remains still, hands clasped over his thighs as he pays close attention to what Eren has to say.

“I want to be brave like you, Corporal. I want… I mean… you’re different from what I expected you to be, sure, but—” Eren stops to look down at his fingers. He flexes them, lost in a thought before resurfacing. “With all due respect, sir, uh, what I mean is that…”

“Jaeger,” Rivaille says again, and this time it’s a warning. Leaving Eren’s situation unacknowledged is perfectly fine, but a confession can greatly damage their roles as leader and subordinate. No good can come of this.

“I won’t let my personal feelings affect my performance in battle, sir.” Eren sounds both unsure and moments away from panicking.

There’s a tense beat of silence as Eren lowers his head, cheeks pink. And for fuck’s sake, the kid actually looks cute when he does it. 

“Is that all?”

“Yes, sir.”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Rivaille crosses his legs and averts his eyes out the window. The tension isn’t coming all from Eren, unfortunately, because he recalls making a promise to himself just two weeks ago. The sinking feeling of how wrong this is does not go unnoticed.

As a rational adult, it’s up to him to discover a way to put an end to this before it can even take flight. He himself is still raw and hurting from the blow dealt to him in the forest, but he can’t let sometime like feelings best him.

“You’re dismissed,” he says, because he needs the space to think.

“But Commander Erwin said—”

“Don’t get caught.”

Eren’s hands fist by his sides, his voice rising in volume. “I’m not a child!”

Rivaille remains impassive even after the childish outburst. Of course there will be no way to restrain him, no way to contain his thoughts and volatile emotions. Anger is easier to manage than rejection, Rivaille should know. He should say that Eren is indeed acting like a child, but he’s certain that Eren already deduced this much from the silence.

Surprisingly, Eren continues. “You have no right to treat me like a child, sir. I’ve seen, I’ve fought, and—and you know this!”

That much is true, Rivaille admits. But who in the Scouting Legion hasn’t seen hell with their very eyes? Eren is indeed just a child with much left to learn and a world yet to explore. He’s still just a brat throwing tantrums when he doesn’t get his way.

“I know it’s stupid, that we have bigger problems and priorities but…” Eren steps closer to Rivaille’s desk, his eyes wide. “What if you can’t find a way to keep the Military Police from taking custody, huh?!”

After a brief moment, Rivaille turns to look at Eren, but still says nothing. That last fragment is a curveball he hadn’t been expecting, and now it’s hard to see what Eren’s intentions are. Is it fear that’s driving this outburst, then? Insecurity? Does he not trust Rivaille’s word?

“Please don’t look at me that way, sir,” Eren says, placing his hands upon the desk and hanging his head. “Say something.”

The ferocity in Eren’s eyes is a new creature all on its own. His nails dig into the wood beneath his hands. Lips are pressed into a thin line.

Rivaille finds his eyes inexplicably drawn to Eren’s neck, where his agitated pulse is nearly visible from the short distance. His Adam’s apple bobs with each forced swallow meant to calm his anger. There’s strength there, determination—and it _taunts_ Rivaille in a way that triggers his own sense of anger. _He’s just a kid._

“I said you’re dismissed.”

Eren’s eyes widen impossibly further, looking gobsmacked, as if he somehow expected another answer. As if he expected acceptance.

No one says a word as Eren straightens up and clears his throat; pointlessly adjusts his belts. His glare withers into something pathetic when he turns towards the door to let himself out.

He’s still a kid, Rivaille reminds himself for the nth time, and forces himself to look away.

“I don’t really think you’re emotionless,” Eren says, hand on the doorknob. “I know it must have been hard to lose your squad, and even though you don’t show it, I know it pains you.”

Rivaille fights the urge to shut his eyes, and remains perfectly still. He doesn’t let the words get to him.

“I know it’s wrong of me to just come out and say what I just said, especially after losing that person… but I thought that maybe I could help you the way you helped me, Corporal. This was another bad choice but… I guess I’ll learn from it, right? That’s not to say that I didn’t mean what I said, because I do look up to you and I do l—like you and stuff.” Opening the door, Eren steps outside. “As inappropriate as it is to ask… would you wait for me?”

It takes Rivaille an instant to realize that the pounding in his ears aren’t thunderous footsteps in the distance, but his own pulse. He calmly swallows down the sudden thrill that shocks him to the bone. What can he possibly say to that?

“You don’t have to answer, sir,” Eren says, and quietly shuts the door.

Three years. So much can happen three years—so much can happen in just three hours. This world doesn’t grant opportunities that need time to be achieved. Titans don’t wait around until people finally sort their personal affairs.

But on a smaller scale, a three year promise is a reason to keep fighting and not die. A purpose.

Eren’s already long gone, perhaps sneaking around HQ, but even so, it doesn’t stop Rivaille from whispering “Of course.”

*

Eren feels like a goddamned idiot, that’s what. He cannot believe he went through with that, that he just stood there and bared his feelings to a man twice his age who also happens to be his squad leader. Training is going to turn into an exercise in awkward, as he won’t be able to look Corporal Rivaille in the face.

This is all Hanji’s fault, he tells himself; her and her bright ideas regarding him speaking his mind without any kind of filter. If he didn’t know better, he’d accuse of her talking him into it just for laughs. But of course she wouldn’t do that, so he mentally berates himself for the thought. He’s just embarrassed, and more than a little hurt.

In truth, Eren had been expecting at least a smile from the Corporal. Not that he ever smiles. Why would he even think that he’s special enough to make him smile? Post-confession, Eren can truly admire just how much of a stupid decision that was. He feels anger because twice he’s missed the lesson on consequences. He figured that, this time, believing in himself would make things right, but now it’s apparent that each situation is different. It’s all too confusing in his head.

Anyways, it’s not like he chose to like the Corporal. Not like he looked at the man and said to himself ‘I want to kiss him’. No, nothing like that. It was a natural progression of admiration, to respect, to… to whatever this is. A crush, maybe.

Crushes get you crushed, is what Connie had said. Eren finally gets what he meant.

_Would you wait for me?_

And then there was that jewel of a line. No wonder the Corporal had been unfazed: he sounded like a freaking 10-year-old. There’s no place in this world for useless romanticism. So many things can happen in just three years.

“Eren.”

Eren freezes mid-step, feeling sweat beading at his forehead when Corporal Rivaille calls from somewhere behind. He takes a moment to compose himself, to act like there aren’t a million thoughts plaguing his mind before turning around to face him. “Sir?”

Rivaille doesn’t say much. He just closes the gap between them, and hooks his finger underneath Eren’s chin.

There really isn’t any time to think or react. No amount of training could prepare Eren for this element of surprise, so he studies the situation. He watches as Rivaille angles his head and leans upward just a little. He watches, but can’t help himself when their lips touch. He shuts his eyes.

It’s soft, so fleeting that Eren wonders if it ever truly happened, but Rivaille is there: eyes dimmed, and lips parted. Unsatisfied with that, Eren leans in again, this time with a little too much force. Their mouths meet too hard, and it hurts a little, but now Eren can register it and store the feeling in his memory.

Lance Corporal Levi kissed him, and he kissed him back.

“You’ve got three years, brat,” Rivaille says as he pulls away, looking positively blank. But Eren knows better now. Corporal’s a man of action, not a man of words.

“Three years,” Eren mimics, and nods his head.

He can totally wait three years.


End file.
